The Hardest Battle
by hachoo
Summary: Fred didn't die in the explosion, but the spell that hit him trapped him in his own mind. As his body begins to fade, it's up to George to save his twin. But how do you convince someone that what they see is not real? How do you make them see the truth?
1. Need

**A/N:** I find writing a way of relieving my anxiety. And at the moment, I have a lot of exams, which has led to a lot of anxiety, which has led to…. this. My first Fred and George fic. And of course, because I'm _so_ original, I had to do one where Fred didn't die in that explosion. Bet you've never thought of that, eh? Haha anyway, I'd really appreciate reviews and feedback, because it's really nerve racking when you start writing about new characters, and any feedback is helpful. Plus, I'm a review addict. Give me reviews and I blossom. Deprive me of them and I go crawl into a hole and sob. No, really. Oh right, and just a quick note: I realise that Charlie wasn't present at the time of Fred's death in the book, but hey, this is already AU so I changed that too. Enjoy!

**The Hardest Battle**

**Chapter 1: Need**

George felt it. He didn't even know what it was, but he _felt_ it. This feeling, this _pressure_ against his chest which made him gasp out loud, his wand hand dropping to his side as he stumbled backwards into a wall. He barely noticed as Charlie blocked a spell from hitting him, barely noticed their father running to his side. All he could feel, all he knew, was that something had happened. Something was wrong.

"George, what is it? Were you hit?" Charlie asked urgently, gripping George's arm tightly as George collapsed against the wall, barely aware of the stone against his back. George blinked dazedly before shaking his head, trying to clear his mind over the sound of yelling and explosions in the distance.

"No, not me," he croaked out, his left hand clutching his chest in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure, as if it were tangible, as if he was the one who had been hurt.

But he already knew.

"What is it?" Arthur asked before sending a spell towards a nearby Death Eater, who was thrown back from the force. "What's wrong George?"

"I- I need to find Fred." George looked at his older brother and father with wide eyes, almost begging them to understand. "Something's- I need him."

Charlie and Arthur exchanged glances, a worried expression mirrored on their faces. The expression on George's face reminded them both of when George was six and the twins had been separated for the first time as punishment. The same desperation, the same need for his brother lingered in George's eyes, unchanged even after fourteen years. After a pause, Arthur nodded at Charlie.

"You take him, I'll stay here and defend the passageway," he told Charlie. Charlie nodded and hauled George away from the wall.

"Stay safe Dad," Charlie called out as he and George headed in the opposite direction. Charlie followed George, who seemed to instinctually know where to go.

"George, did you sense something?" Charlie asked as they hurried down a corridor, passing the portraits who cheered them on. George nodded silently, taking a sharp right, his left hand still clamped over his chest. The pressure was leaving but he could still feel its lingering presence pressing against him. No, not _him_.

"Is it Fred?" Charlie pressed.

"Something's happened. I don't know what, but something's wrong," George said quietly, for once in his life sounding entirely serious. Charlie swallowed and the two broke into a run. They continued down several corridors, turning corners every now and then. From what George remembered, Fred had been stationed with Percy on the opposite side of the Castle, which was where he was heading now. More than once they stopped to hex a Death Eater or help a student, but George would immediately resume his path, Charlie at his heels. It was ten minutes later when they were walking cautiously down what used to be a corridor, now left in ruins, that George let out a strangled moan and ran forward.

"Fred!" He cried out, and the pain in his voice was so concrete, so strong that Charlie instantly knew what he would find. From behind George, Charlie could see flaming red hair, barely visible from its position in a hidden niche. He swallowed and followed George, stopping a few feet away. He gazed down at the still, broken body of his younger brother. "Fred," Charlie whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

George was beside Fred in mere seconds, hovering over his brother, hands gripping the front of his jacket with white knuckles.

"Fred" he whispered, his gaze sweeping over the gash at Fred's hairline, the smile still lingering on his lips. "Fred, wake up." He felt rather than saw someone move to kneel at his side.

"George, he's gone," he heard Charlie whisper. George shook his head, furious at his brother's suggestion.

"No he's not. He just needs to wake up- Fred, wake up you git!" George's voice was growing louder, more insistent as he stared at Fred's unmoving form in frustration. He shook Fred roughly. "Wake up!"

"George, leave him be." Charlie's voice was choked with tears as he tried to pry George's hands from Fred's jacket, but to no avail. George's hand remained firmly attached as he bowed his head, refusing or perhaps unable to come to terms with the fact that Fred was lying before him, _dead_.

"Fred, stop playing around and get up!" George's voice was shaking now as he tried to force the tears down, but Fred didn't move, didn't open his eyes. George could feel a sob rising in his throat and he gathered Fred's body into his arms, pressing his forehead against his twin's, watching as his own tears fell on Fred's face, trailing down his cheeks. He felt Charlie's hand on his shoulder, but couldn't bring himself to look away from Fred's face, couldn't bring himself to do anything other than stare at the body of his twin.

"George, he's gone," Charlie repeated, and George felt a fury rise in his chest.

"He's _not gone_!" George shouted angrily. "He's still alive."

"George-"

"Can't you feel it? Can't you feel him? He's still here, he's not gone," George was pleading now, choking back the sobs threatening to overcome him. He couldn't understand why Charlie was shaking his head sadly, why Charlie couldn't see that Fred wasn't dead. That Fred couldn't be dead.

He could feel a sharp pain in his chest as he struggled to breathe through his tears, and he was only vaguely aware of Voldemort's voice echoing through the halls of Hogwarts. Instead, his attention was focused on Fred, wiping away the blood from the side of his face, pressing a hand to his cheek gently in an attempt to keep his face warm, nestling one hand in Fred's hair, wishing his brother would wake up, _needing_ him to wake up. Because he couldn't even begin to comprehend the alternative.

It was someone calling his name loudly that brought George back to reality. He looked up to see his father, his expression filled with sorrow, Charlie hovering at his shoulder.

"Son, we need to get him to the Great Hall. That's where they're moving all the…. bodies." Arthur's voice faltered on the last word, but nevertheless he bent down stiffly to remove Fred's body from George's grasp. But George refused to let go.

"No dad." George couldn't bear to see them take him, leaving George alone with his pain and the knowledge that Fred wouldn't be there to take it away. It didn't matter if Fred was alive or dead, George just needed him _there_.

"George-"

"No, he's fine. Just leave him-"

"George, stop making this hard for everyone," Arthur pleaded, but George refused to let go.

"He's not dead dad, he's not dead!" George protested, his hand resting on Fred's chest. He found a slight comfort as he felt Fred's heart beating under his palm, barely noticeable but still there. Hold on, Fred's _heartbeat_?

"Dad!" George cried out but it was too late, Arthur heaved Fred's body out of George's grip and stood up, cradled Fred in his arms. George scrambled to his feet, but was stopped as Charlie grabbed his arm.

"George, let dad take him," Charlie told him firmly, grief still visible on his face. George struggled against the tight grip.

"No, Charlie let me go! Dad, he's alive! Fred's still alive, stop!" He yelled. Arthur started walking, trying to block out the fact that his son was lying dead in his arms.

"George, stop struggling," Charlie grunted as he struggled to hold George in his arms.

"Dad, he's not dead!" George shouted, but his father was still walking, taking Fred away from him. Fred who was alive, Fred who was fighting to stay with him.

"You're making this harder than it already is George!"

"His heart's still beating!" George bellowed, straining against Charlie's grip, which slackened at his words. George sprinted forward towards Arthur, who had stopped in his tracks.

"What?" Arthur asked as George caught up to him. Arthur quickly knelt down and laid Fred's body on the floor, George instantly cradling his head. He pressed a hand to Fred's chest, and waited.

"George there's nothi- Oh!"Arthur's eyes widened as he felt the extremely faint heartbeat against his hand.

"Dad?" Charlie asked hesitantly. Arthur gazed up at him.

"He's still alive," Arthur whispered, and Charlie immediately dropped to his knees, hand reaching out to feel Fred's chest. A minute later a grin spread across his face.

"He's alive. Fred's still alive!" Charlie said in wonderment before grabbing George in his arms and giving him a bone breaking hug. "He's alive!"

"His heartbeat is weak though. Why won't he wake up?" Arthur asked, brow forming a frown. Charlie released George, and the two looked back at Fred, George's hand resting in his hair.

"Maybe it was the spell that hit him. Who was with him?" Charlie asked.

"Percy," George said quietly. Arthur was quiet for a few seconds before he reached down to pick up Fred's body again.

"No dad, what are you- I thought we established Fred was alive!" George said in confusion as he rose to his feet, trying to tug Fred out of his father's hold.

"I know he is George, but we still need to get him to the Great Hall. That's where they're taking all the injured people as well, and we need to know what's wrong with Fred. Plus Percy will be there, maybe he knows," Arthur explained as they began walking towards the Great Hall. Charlie wrapped a reassuring hand around George's shoulder.

"If you hadn't noticed-" Charlie began, but George shook his head.

"Don't even go there. We were so close to losing him. We still could."

"He'll be alright George," Charlie said, but his tone was uncertain. "Fred's a fighter. He's hung on for this long already."

George swallowed, glancing briefly at Fred's face, noticing for the first time that the smile had left his lips.

"Yeah," he said unconvincingly, the dread growing in his stomach.


	2. Want

**A/N: **Oh wow. I am kind of blown away by the number of story alerts I got for this. Thank you! And a **big **thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys make the world a better place. My gift to you lovely people: the next chapter in the story. I hope you guys enjoy it; it's gone through a _lot_ of editing because I can't decide whether I'm happy with it or not. Sorry if any characters seem OOC… there's just SO many Weasley's, it's hard to fit them all in. But oh well. Please leave a review if you can!

**Chapter 2: Want**

The sound that escaped Molly Weasley's mouth when she saw Arthur walk into the Great Hall cradling Fred's body was one that George never wanted to hear again. She ran forward, Bill, Fleur, Percy and Ginny at her heels, tears already falling rapidly.

"Oh, my boy!" She cried out between sobs, falling to her knees. Behind her, Ginny burst into tears and clung to Bill, who was already holding a weepy Fleur, while Percy bowed his head, tears streaming from his already puffy eyes.

"No, Molly, it's not what you think," Arthur started. Charlie helped him lower Fred gently to the ground, both supporting his body which George quickly gathered into his own arms protectively.

"I've got him Charlie," George said quietly as he rested Fred's head against his shoulder, adjusting him into a somewhat comfortable position. The slight breath he could feel against his neck was a comfort. Arthur turned back to the rest of the family.

"He's alive."

Molly stared at Arthur in shock. Percy's head flew up, Ginny stopped sobbing, and Bill's grip on Fleur tightened. Their eyes all flickered to Fred, to George, to Arthur, and then back to Fred.

"What?" Percy whispered, his eyes hopeful.

"He's not dead. He's still got a heartbeat," Charlie told the family, a slight grin on his face. "It's faint, but it's there. He's alive."

Molly burst into tears again, this time smiling. Percy knelt down next to Fred and George.

"He's really alive?" Percy asked quietly, gazing down at Fred's face. George nodded.

"Yeah."

A smile emerged on Percy's face, one George hadn't seen in years. He started laughing, tears streaming down his face. "Oh thank God!" Percy cried out, burying his face in his hands. Hearing footsteps behind them, the Weasley clan turned around to see Ron, Harry and Hermione walking into the Great Hall, looking despondent. Noticing the smiles on everyone's faces, they walked over cautiously. Only Percy was aware that they were still under the impression that Fred was dead.

"He's alive, Ron!" Percy surprised them all by speaking first. "Fred's alive!"

Ron blinked, before turning to Hermione and Harry, who looked just as confused.

"But we saw him…" Hermione's voice trailed off. "Are you sure?" She glanced down uncertainly at Fred's still form.

"You can still feel his heartbeat," Charlie said, nodding. Ron collapsed to his knees beside Fred in relief, and Harry let out a small laugh of happiness. Hermione smiled, but she still looked concerned.

"Why isn't he awake?" She asked, bringing up the question everyone was silently asking.

"That's what we need to find out" Arthur said grimly, turning to Percy.

"Percy, were you with Fred when he got hit?" He asked. Percy nodded, eyes growing teary again.

"Yeah, so was Ron, Harry and Hermione," he said quietly. Arthur nodded.

"Okay, we need to know what happened." The four looked at each other, wondering who would- _could_- speak.

"We- we were fighting the Death Eaters," Hermione finally began. "And then there was this explosion, I think one of them blew up the wall. When it cleared, Fred was lying there and we- we thought he was dead, so Harry and Percy moved his body into a niche."

"But was Fred hit by a spell?" Arthur urged. Hermione shook her head.

"I don't- I didn't see." She said in a small voice.

"It was a green spell," Percy spoke up suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him. He swallowed. "Green, like the killing curse. Which I why I thought- I thought he-" he swallowed again.

"Could it have been the killing curse?" Ron asked, with a sidewards glance at Harry. "I mean, could it have somehow hit him and he survived-?"

Everyone turned to look at Harry, the only person who had been hit by it and lived. He frowned.

"I- I don't think so. The only reason I survived was because my mother sacrificed herself for me. And even then, I don't think I was in a comatose state like Fred is," he said as he looked down at Fred, still resting in George's arms.

"Right, well I'm going to go find Madam Pompfrey," Arthur said as he walked off, followed by Charlie. Harry seemed to notice something, as he stumbled away from the group with Ron and Hermione, while the rest of the Weasley's discussed what could possibly be wrong with Fred.

"Georgie?" Molly's voice interrupted George's thoughts. He smiled weakly up at her.

"Hey mum," he said. She gazed at him with tear filled eyes.

"Are you okay sweetie?" She asked him sincerely. George was tempted to shake his head, to tell her that no, he wasn't alright, how could he be alright when it was Fred who was lying in his arms, unconscious? His brother, his twin, who had been by his side since he was born, now on the verge of death?

But he didn't. He couldn't. Instead, he nodded and shot her a reassuring grin.

"I'm fine mum," he said, and to his relief Molly nodded, ruffled his hair, and moved away to comfort Ginny.

George, relieved to finally be away from all the attention, glanced down at Fred. He shifted slightly, supporting more of Fred's upper body against his own. His left hand found its way to Fred's, and he clasped Fred's hand in his own, their fingers intertwined, as he rested his chin on top of Fred's head. Sighing, he closed his eyes for a moment, imagining what it would be like to hear Fred's laughter echoing in his ears, his squawk of disapproval if he could see himself curled in George's arms.

"You girl!" He could imagine Fred exclaiming as he gave George a friendly shove. "George? More like Georgina! Get off me, you numpty, I'm fine."

But now… now George was facing the possibility of never hearing Fred's voice again.

"George!"

George frowned slightly. Could it be- no, that wasn't possible. But he was sure he had heard Fred's voice calling his name. George opened his eyes, and to his immense surprise found himself in a dark, damp cell. Beyond the bars, he could barely make out a passageway. George glanced around, unsure how he got into the cell, and then shrank back against the wall as he made out two figures walking towards him. It took him several moments to realise one of them had flaming red hair.

"You won't get away with this!" The red haired figure yelled, and George felt his heart rate increase drastically. _Fred!_ He would recognise that voice anywhere. The second figure opened the door and thrust Fred violently inside the cell, laughing.

"Just watch me," he said mockingly before leaving. Fred immediately rose to his feet, clutching the bars.

"George!" He yelled again. George stepped out of the shadows.

"Fred?" He whispered. Fred whirled around, eyes wide.

"What? George, how are you- how did you get here?" He asked, confusion clear in his eyes as he looked at George and then outside the cell. George took a step forward, and was startled to see Fred take one backwards.

"Fred, it's me," he said, slightly hurt by Fred's reaction. But Fred shook his head.

"No, how can you- you can't be here, you're out there," he said, gesturing outside the cell. "I just saw you, I just _heard_ you."

"Fred, something weird is happening," George said, glancing around again. "How did you get here? Where are we?"

"I don't know, we were fighting at Hogwarts and then these guys kidnapped us or something," Fred mumbled, running a hand through his already tousled hair. He looked back at George, a strange expression on his face. "Who are you?"

"What do you mean? I'm George," said George, confused. Fred shook his head again.

"Stop saying that. You're not George; George is out there being _tortured_ for information." Fred's voice was choked with emotion, his fists clenched, and George could see how frustrated and upset his brother was. "So I'll ask you again, _who are you_?"

George took a step back, hands held up as a gesture of innocence and goodwill. "Look Fred, I don't know what's happening, but this isn't real. Okay? I'm me, I'm _George_, and I'm not being tortured. I just got here."

"How stupid do you lot think I am?" Fred demanded angrily. "You think as soon as I see my brother I'll start yapping away and tell you everything?"

"Fred, I'm not working for them," George said, pleading for his brother to believe him. "You need to listen to me; you need to wake up Fred. This isn't real, I think this is just a dream, because a minute ago I was in the Great Hall, but if you can hear me, the real you, you need to _wake up_."

Fred snorted. "You came from the Great Hall? Through what, the mirror?" He asked mockingly. George turned around and to his surprise saw a large mirror behind him, in exactly the spot he had emerged from. He looked at it uncertainly. To his surprise, he was unable to see his reflection. Instead, there was only darkness.

"I-" he leaned forward and raised a hand to the mirror curiously. Suddenly, he felt his body being jerked forward, and he found himself falling straight into the mirror, hearing Fred's voice calling out for him.

George's eyes flew open and he found himself in the Great Hall once more, his family's worried faces above him. Once they realised he was awake, they all heaved a collective sigh of relief.

"George?" Ginny asked, her hand resting on his shoulder. It was only then that he realised someone had manoeuvred him against a wall. His eyes flew down to look at Fred, who was still nestled in his arms, motionless except for the slight rise and fall of his chest. His mind flew back to the cell, to Fred's confused face before him. Was it real? Was Fred somehow trapped somewhere? Or was it just his mind's creation in a desperate attempt to see Fred again? But it had seemed so _real_…

"George?" Molly's voice jolted him back to reality. "Georgie, what is it? What happened, you just collapsed and seemed to fall into a daze…"

George licked his lips uncertainly.

"I- I think I just saw Fred."


	3. Belief

**A/N: **Heeey, another chapter. Sorry, it's a bit of a filler. Well, not quite; you get an explanation about what's happening here, but there's no real action. Anyway, big thank you to Stars and Stripes and Cristina Weasley for reviewing. You guys are the best. And I hope that everyone else out there following this is enjoying it so far. Oh, I should make a point: I used google as an English/Latin translator, so if it doesn't make sense…. I'm sorry. Right, so, for anyone who actually bothered to read this, on with the story, and don't forget to review if you can!

**Chapter 3- Belief**

A shocked silence met George's comment. Everyone glanced uncertainly around at each other before Bill finally spoke.

"George, you're holding Fred," he said gently, as though speaking to a three year old about to throw a tantrum.

"No, I mean I saw him. In… in my mind," George said, realising as he spoke how ridiculous he sounded. The rest of his family were exchanging worried looks, Molly covering her mouth as another sob threatened to escape.

"Well that's completely normal. We've all got Fred on our mind," Bill said comfortingly. George shook his head.

"No, this was different. He was being held by these people and he thought that I was being tortured." George frowned as he tried to recall the events that had occurred. He didn't see the alarmed glances being exchanged above his head.

"George, come on, you probably just need to rest after all the shock," Ginny pulled his arm, but George shook her hand off.

"I wasn't dreaming, and I'm not crazy!" He snapped, instantly regretting it at the hurt look on Ginny's face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I just- I'm not losing it. I really did see Fred," he said almost pleadingly to his family. Any further comments were interrupted by the arrival of Arthur, Charlie and Madam Pompfrey, who looked particularly harried. She was kneeling at Fred's side in a flash, waving her wand over him. Everyone looked on, worried.

"What's your diagnosis?" Charlie finally asked after several minutes of wand waving and muttering. Madam Pompfrey looked up, brow furrowed.

"I- I've never seen anything like it. He has no external or internal injuries apart from several minor cuts and bruises, but his heart is extremely weak. I can't find any cause for it though," she said, frowning.

"So there's nothing you can do?" Molly squeaked, arm gripping Arthur tightly. Madam Pompfrey shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said to the family surrounding her. "There's… there's something else," she said nervously.

"What?" Percy was the only one who dared ask the question. Everyone else simply braced themselves for the news.

"This- this state he's in…. if he doesn't wake up soon, I'm afraid he never will," Madam Pompfrey said apologetically.

"What?" Bill asked, horrified. "What do you mean, why won't he wake up?"

"Well, his heart will eventually be too weak to keep him alive," Madam Pompfrey began, but was cut off as Molly let out a wail. The rest of the Weasley clan were taking the news just as badly. However one member seemed to be lost in his thoughts. George gazed down at Fred's still form cradled in his arms, his mind replaying what he had seen. Fred had been in a cell. He was trapped. But Fred was in his arms right now, so who had that Fred been? Was it a dream?

_But why would I dream that _I_ was being tortured?_ George asked himself. And_ why would there be two George's?_ It took him a few seconds to understand.

"It was Fred's mind!" He exclaimed aloud. Everyone turned to look at him.

"What?" Ginny asked uncertainly.

"The dream I had, it wasn't my dream. It was _Fred's_." George's excitement only lasted several seconds before he realised everyone was looking at him as though he were insane.

"Madam Pompfrey, is there some sort of spell to trap someone in their mind?" He asked urgently. Madam Pompfrey blinked.

"Trap someone in their- oh!" Madam Pompfrey's surprised exclamation startled everyone.

"Oh?" Arthur repeated.

"Furtivus animum," Madam Pompfrey breathed. Her eyes flickered down to Fred. "I've never seen it performed before- but this _could_ be the physical symptoms. It's highly unlikely though…"

"But what _is_ it?" Charlie asked in frustration.

"It's a spell designed to trap someone within their own mind. But it traps them within the darkest confines of their mind, where their nightmares lurk, while in the physical world their body begins to fade. But it's only a legend. Like I said, I've never seen it performed-"

"But that could be what's happened to Fred, couldn't it?" George pressed on. "He could have been hit by it?"

"I- well, I suppose yes, but I couldn't be sure-" Madam Pompfrey seemed slightly flustered by the questions.

"So how would you stop it?" George interrupted yet again.

"My dear boy, there is no proof that it even exists, let alone a counter curse!" Madam Pompfrey exclaimed, straightening up.

"But if there _were_ a counter curse or a cure, what would it be?" George refused to back off despite his parents frowns.

"Well in theory, I suppose you would have to somehow rescue the person. Convince them that they're trapped in their mind. But there is no _proof _that it exists!" Madam Pompfrey exclaimed again. "Now I'm sorry but I really must be off, there are many other patients that require my assistance. I shall return again later to check on him." With that, she swept away.

"What on earth were you talking about George?" Molly burst out as soon as Madam Pompfrey was out of earshot. "That was extremely disrespectful to Madam Pompfrey-"

"I think that curse is the one that hit Fred," George rushed. Molly stopped mid-rant.

"What?"

"That curse, the furtivus whatever. I think that's what hit Fred. I think he's trapped inside his mind."

"What makes you say that George?" Ginny asked gently. George frowned at her slightly condescending tone.

"When I… fell asleep, I saw Fred. Only he was sure I didn't exist because he had just seen me being… being tortured." George explained. His family winced.

"But you were just dreaming Georgie," Molly said gently.

"No, it wasn't my dream. I think I somehow entered Fred's mind. There was this mirror there, and that's how I got back." George could see his family wasn't convinced. "It's true!"

"We know sweetheart, we know," Molly spoke, kneeling down beside him. "Now how about we get you a nice dreamless draught-"

"I'm not crazy!" George yelled, shocking himself as much as he shocked Molly. "Why won't you believe me?" He whispered, clutching Fred tighter to his chest. Molly rested a hand on his shoulder, gazing up at her husband in despair. Arthur shrugged.

"Maybe he just needs a few minutes. He's been through so much," Arthur suggested, and the Weasley clan moved away, leaving only Fred and George in the corner. George's head remained bowed, close to Fred's. He sniffed, wishing that Fred were awake to back him up, as they always did for each other.

George heard footsteps walking towards him, and he gazed up. To his surprise, Charlie and Bill stood before him.

"What do you want?" George muttered, slightly disgruntled. Bill and Charlie exchanged a glance before both dropping to their knees.

"We think you may be right," Bill murmured softly with a sideways glance towards the rest of their family. George stared.

"What?" He asked.

"We believe you about Fred," Charlie said. Noticing the surprised expression on George's face, he continued. "You knew Fred was alive when no-one else did. If we're going to place Fred's life in anyone's hands, it should be yours."

"Well that's not placing any pressure on him at all," Bill said sarcastically, frowning at Charlie. Charlie shrugged guiltily.

"So you'll help me?" George asked hopefully.

"As much as we can. So how are we going to do this?" Bill asked, already stepping into his role as the oldest.

"Well, say Madame Pompfrey was right. She said we need to somehow get into his mind and convince him to come back to reality." Charlie summarised quickly, noticing that Molly was beginning to edge towards them.

"I- I think I can get into his mind," George said as he glanced down at Fred. "I did it before."

"Can you do it again?" Bill asked gently. George nodded.

"I have to. For Fred," he said firmly. Bill nodded, but before he could speak, Voldemort's voice was echoing throughout the Great Hall, declaring that Harry Potter was dead. George could see Ginny cry out in disbelief before running to the door, their parents, Percy and Fleur running after her. George, Bill and Charlie looked at each other, similar expressions of shock on their faces.

"You don't think..." George's voice trailed off at the implication that Harry may have lost, that they all may have lost. Charlie shook his head.

"You go get Fred back. Leave us to worry about Voldemort," he said with a weak smile. George nodded.

"Okay. I'll- _we'll_ see you in a bit then," George corrected himself.

"Shouldn't one of us stay here and make sure everything's okay?" Bill asked, but George shook his head.

"They need you out there more. There's nothing you can do here." He said firmly, before gesturing his head towards the door. Bill nodded and pressed a kiss to Fred's forehead while Charlie squeezed George's shoulder.

"Good luck," he said. George swallowed, watching as his two eldest brother's left to go join the fight.

Once they were gone, George stared down at Fred. He gripped Fred's left hand tightly as he noticed Fred's breathing was now barely noticeable, his skin turning colder and paler every minute.

"I'm coming Fred," he whispered into his brothers ear. "Just hold on."


	4. Uncertainty

**A/N: **So, my longest chapter yet! I feel quite proud I apologise in advance for all the pov changes; I hope they're not too confusing. Big thank you to my lovely reviewers from the last chapter, **chocolateMnMs** and **cutietrp**. Your wonderful feedback makes this story worth writing. To everyone reading, I'd love it if you could leave a review, but whether you do or not, I hope you enjoy the story regardless. Over and out!

**Chapter 4- Uncertainty**

Seconds after George felt his eyes close, he was back in the cell, alone. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself for what he was sure was going to be a very demanding situation. Fred could be one of the most stubborn people he knew, and looking around at the very realistic cell, George wasn't quite sure how he was going to convince Fred that this was not reality.

He was interrupted by the arrival of the same guard he had seen before, who was dragging a protesting Fred behind him. The guard pushed Fred roughly into the cell, slamming the door behind him. George, who had shrunk into the shadows, grinned as his brother cursed loudly at the guard's retreating back.

Some things never changed.

"Fred?" He said quietly once he was sure they were alone. Fred spun around, and George's eyes widened at the bruises evident on his face.

"Wha- George?" He looked confused for a second before his expression changed into one similar to disgust. "Oh right, it's _you_."

George frowned, slightly hurt at the tone of Fred's voice.

"I've figured it out, you know. You're a death eater right? You took some of George's hair, put it in some polyjuice potion and voila; you're George."

"Fred, it's really me," George said desperately. Fred shook his head dismissively.

"Right yeah, so what's the plan? You convince me that you're George, I spill all my secrets to you, and then you kill the real George in front of me just for fun? That's the kind of sadistic thing you people do, right?" Fred spat out, standing as far away from George as he could within the confines of the small cell.

"Fred, I swear to you I am not a death eater," George said firmly. "I'm me. I'm _George_."

"How stupid do you think I am? Don't let those 3 O.W.L's I got fool you; I've still got a healthy number of brain cells in this noggin of mine," Fred proclaimed as he tapped his head lightly.

"Yeah well I'm beginning to doubt that right now," George muttered under his breath before continuing. "Look, if I stay in here with you for an hour, will you believe me?" he asked desperately.

"Right, because polyjuice potion is the only option." Fred said sarcastically.

"Look Fred, I don't have time for this. You're _dying_ up there; I need to get you back before Voldemort defeats everyone-"

A loud scream interrupted George. Fred flew at the cell door in rage.

"Leave him alone you bastards!" He shouted, hitting the door angrily.

"Who was that?" George asked, although a part of him had already recognised the scream.

"That was George. The _real _George. They're torturing him for information about the Order, and about Harry." Fred said furiously, banging on the door one last time out of frustration.

George tried to block out the sound of his own screams as he grabbed Fred's wrist.

"Hey, let me go!" Fred yelped, trying to shake off George, who dragged him towards the mirror.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have time for this Fred!" George said desperately before pushing Fred towards the mirror. To his utmost surprise, Fred didn't disappear through the mirror as George had done earlier. Instead, Fred hit the mirror and fell back with a loud thud, a bruise already forming on his head.

"Ow, you bloody git!" Fred exclaimed. George wasn't paying attention, instead staring at the mirror.

"What- why didn't you go through?" He whispered.

"Because it's a bloody mirror! It's solid!" Fred snapped, rubbing his head ruefully. George winced as he noticed the blood trickling down Fred's face.

"I'm sorry Fred," he said sincerely. Fred shook his head, stepping away from George.

"Sodding death eaters," he cursed loudly, glaring at George. George threw his hands up in frustration.

"I'm not a death eater!" He exclaimed, ready to tear out his hair. "You know what, screw it. I'm going to go back and tell Bill and Charlie that we need a new plan," he said angrily, moving towards the mirror. Fred frowned.

"Bill and Charlie? They're… they're here too?" He asked, slightly confused.

"No, they're back at Hogwarts, most likely helping Harry fight Voldemort."

"You mean your boss?" Fred sneered, but his tone was more curious than angry.

"No, I mean Voldemort, the bad guy we're trying to defeat. The battle should be nearly over by now." George said, glancing absentmindedly at his watch. Fred was staring at him suspiciously.

"The biggest battle of all times is underway at Hogwarts right now. So why aren't you and the rest of your… your cronies out there helping your master? Why did you kidnap me and George?"

"That's just it, we- I mean they- didn't kidnap you. This isn't real Fred!" George cried out, seeing an opening. Unfortunately, Fred wasn't going to make this easy for him.

"Then prove it," Fred hissed.

George took a deep breath, forcing his emotions down. Yelling at Fred was not going to make the situation any better.

"You were fighting with Percy," he began. Fred stared at him, saying nothing. "And then the wall nearest to you exploded. You were thrown back, and a spell hit you in the chest."

"And then I ended up here," Fred said, nodding. "Great little story, but that doesn't prove anything."

"No, you didn't end up here. Your body is back in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. But your mind- the curse that hit you, it's designed to trap you in your mind. Or well, in your nightmare to be more specific. Which is where we are now," George explained, his voice wavering slightly. Fred raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you sure put a lot of imagination into that story didn't you?" He asked condescendingly. George flinched.

"I'm telling the truth Fred! Stop acting like such an arse, you don't know what it was like to find your body hidden away! We thought you were dead!" George exploded, turning away so Fred couldn't see the tears filling in his eyes.

A silence filled the cell, only interrupted by the occasional sniff from George.

Fred took a step forward, almost instinctually seeking to comfort his brother, but stopped, staring curiously at George's figure. He was confused; his mind told him that this George doppelganger was just a death eater, trying to trick him, trying to catch him when his guard was down. But his heart was telling him differently. Being one of the few people who had witnessed George shed a tear in the last few years, Fred could remember his exact characteristics down to the way he brushed a hand across his eyes twice, and it was exactly the same way the George in front of him was doing it now. There was something so _familiar_ about this George, something beyond merely his appearance.

"George?" He whispered automatically, and George spun around immediately, slightly shocked.

"You- you called me George," he said, almost accusingly. Fred shrugged.

"Had to get your attention didn't I?" He said light heartedly, keeping his real thoughts to himself. George frowned slightly and didn't reply, instead sitting down on the floor, sighing. Fred followed suit, sitting opposite George.

"So in this Battle of yours, is everyone alright? Our- your family?" Fred said suddenly. George smiled slightly.

"Everyone's fine. Dead worried about you, but they're all alive. Well, I think they are. Although Harry…" George's voice trailed off. Fred stared at him for a second before his gaze dropped to the floor, and the two sat in silence until they heard footsteps echoing down the hall. George immediately rose and fell back into the shadows while Fred got to his feet stiffly.

"Oh, it's you again. I'd recognise your ugly mug in my sleep," Fred said pleasantly to the guard, who grabbed him roughly by the neck.

"Hey, easy there big guy!"

The guard pulled Fred out of the cell and began walking down the corridor, George following unnoticed close behind.

* * *

><p>It was over. Harry had defeated Voldemort, the Death Eaters had fled. The war was over and they had <em>won<em>. Hugs were being distributed freely between strangers; families and friends clinging to each other in joy. The atmosphere was so light and jubilant that it was only when Charlie was in the midst of hugging Ron tightly to his chest that he remembered, and how could he have forgotten even for a second because it was important, it was _so important_. His eyes flickered up to meet Bill's, and he immediately knew that Bill was remembering too. Without a word, they both launched themselves up the nearest staircase, heading to the Great Hall.

"Hey, where are you going?" Ron called out indignantly. Neither replied, but the shooting glance Charlie shot him was enough, and Ron was bounding up the stairs after them, all smiles gone from his face, Hermione and Harry close behind. A few people in the mass crowd wondered at this sudden movement, however they soon forgot about it in the face of such a triumphant atmosphere. Only five others in the crowd recognised the importance, and they too left, heading urgently towards the Great Hall.

Bill raced into the Great Hall and came to an abrupt halt a few metres away from Fred and George, the latter of whom was still resting against the wall, clutching his twin in his arms. What alarmed Bill though was that both twins were now unconscious and unresponsive.

"George. _George_," Bill half yelled, shaking George's arm frantically with no result. He felt Charlie kneel beside him, looking worried.

"Neither of them are awake yet," Bill said, his voice shaking slightly.

"Are they-" Charlie couldn't continue, too afraid to ask. Bill shook his head.

"George is alright," he said as he placed a hand on George's neck, feeling for a pulse. "He feels a bit cold, but other than that he could just be asleep."

"What about Fred?" Harry's voice surprised both Charlie and Bill, who hadn't realised he was with them. Bill placed one hand on Fred's forehead, the other against his neck. His face paled slightly.

"His pulse is weaker," he said quietly, wincing at the chilled nature of Fred's skin under his touch. He looked at Charlie beside him. "I don't know if George will be able to-"

"George will be able to _what_?" A voice interrupted him. Startled, they turned around to see Molly, Arthur, Percy, Ginny and Fleur arriving behind them. It was Molly who had spoken, her voice shaking slightly. Charlie gulped.

"George is… he's trying to wake Fred up," Bill explained. Molly raised an eyebrow.

"_How_?" She asked, her voice reaching a dangerous tone.

"He err… he thought that if he could get into Fred's mind, he could convince Fred to come back," Charlie said, wincing. For a good reason.

"You mean to tell me that I am now on the verge of losing _two_ sons?" Molly's voice was growing rapidly in volume as she advanced on her two eldest sons. "And who gave him this idea?"

"George was going to try it anyway, we just supported him," Bill said weakly.

"_Supported _him? It'll be you who needs support in a minute! How could you be so foolish as to encourage him when he's in such a fragile state? He's not thinking straight and then you two go convince him to try and save Fred-"

"If we don't do anything Fred will _die_ mum!" Charlie yelled, blinking away tears furiously. "This is the only thing we could think of. It's our only chance."

Molly stared at him for a few seconds, apparently unable to decide whether she wanted to continue yelling or burst out in tears. Arthur pulled her away to calm her down.

"I'm a bit confused, exactly what is going on here?" Ron asked, breaking the silence. Ginny quickly explained to him, Harry and Hermione what George believed he had seen, and the conversation they had with Madame Pompfrey.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "Furtivus animum, I've read about that!"

"Of course you have," Ron grumbled, but he looked distinctly proud.

"You have? What did it say?" Charlie asked, rounding on Hermione.

"Well, much like Madame Pompfrey said. It's a spell designed to trap the victim within their mind, or more specifically that which they fear the most. In theory it can only be broken if the victim can be convinced that what they are seeing is not reality. But I haven't heard of it being performed for centuries," Hermione concluded, casting a worried glance over the twins.

"But it could work?" Bill pressed, looking just as worried. Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Considering that George was even able to get into Fred's mind, which is supposed to be almost impossible unless you're a legilimens, there's a good chance. I suppose because Fred and George are twins, they share a closer bond than others. If George managed to get into Fred's mind, then as long as he can convince him to come back…" Hermione's voice trailed off as everyone winced at the 'what if' scenario. What if George couldn't convince Fred? What could they possibly do?

"I guess we can't really do anything other than wait," Ginny said sadly. The others moved in a silent agreement, each taking a place on the cold stone floor around the motionless twins. They could hear the sound of cheers echoing outside, but within the Great Hall all they could sense was a great tension and uncertainty. Harry was purposely facing away from the bodies of Remus and Tonks, Ginny beside him, Percy beside her. Hermione and Ron were less than a metre away, next to Bill and Fleur, and finally Charlie, seated closest to the twins.

It was a few minutes before Molly and Arthur joined them in their silent vigil. Molly stroked each twin's cheek lovingly before taking her seat next to Arthur.

"You know George felt it when Fred was hit by the spell?" Charlie asked his mother suddenly. Molly looked slightly surprised.

"I- no, I didn't," she said.

"He knew something was wrong straightaway. He was clutching his chest, like he could feel the pain himself. We thought he'd been hit by a curse at first, but in a few seconds he was running off to find Fred. Believe me mum, if anyone can bring Fred back, it'll be George. Because he won't give up. Not when it comes to Fred."

Another silence fell upon the group before Arthur spoke up.

"When we were on our way to the Burrow, Fred kept rubbing his ear. He was almost doing it unconsciously; when I pointed it out, he just said it felt _different_ somehow. I thought maybe it was the effect of the polyjuice potion or something. I didn't understand until we got back and saw what had happened to George…" Arthur stopped talking, instead wrapping a comforting arm around Molly. Nearby, both Hermione and Ginny sniffed.

"The point is, those two share something deeper than we'll ever know. They'll be fine as long as they're together," he said comfortingly, and the group murmured in agreement, wanting, _needing _to believe.

And so they waited.


	5. Trust

**A/N- **Second last chapter! So this is where all the action happens. Umm, I'd also like to apologise in advance. I'm not telling you what I'm apologising for, just… know I'm apologising. You'll understand later. So, as always, a MASSIVE thanks to my reviewers: **cutietrp**,** chocolateMnMs**,** Cristina Weasley** and** Stars and Stripes**. Your continuous support means the world. I hope you all enjoy this chapter; it was quite… interesting to write. Yes, we'll leave at that shall we?

**Chapter 5- Trust**

Fred was being yanked along the tunnel by the guard, George flitting in the shadows behind them, pausing every time they stopped so as to remain undetected. A part of him was glad that the guards in Fred's mind were so thick; he was sure if this had been real, he would have been noticed by now. After a few minutes they reached a black wooden door, which the guard opened. From inside, George could hear a low moaning, and he wasn't surprised when Fred ran forward into the room without any prompting. The guard turned and left, barely missing George who ducked behind a large rock formation. As soon as the guard was out of sight, George ran into the room after his brother.

It was cold and dimly lit, not much different to Fred's cell, although much bigger. In the middle, there was a wooden table, and lying on top of the table was-

"George!" Fred exclaimed, running up to his 'twin'. The George on the table was barely conscious, his eyes fluttering slowly, his clothes stained with what was most likely his own blood. George stared, feeling as though he were having an out of body experience. The George before him looked _exactly_ like him, down to the last freckle. Even the hole George now had as an ear was exactly the same.

"George, are you okay?" Fred was murmuring, stroking the other George's forehead tenderly. The other George turned to look at Fred.

"You need to tell them, Fred," he whispered quietly, voice barely more than a croak. George watched in alarm as Fred's face fell. _Tell them what_, George wanted to ask, but he refrained, deciding to stay quiet until he could figure out exactly what nightmare Fred's mind was creating.

"No…. George, we swore we'd never cave, no matter what," Fred said weakly, tears forming in his eyes. The other George shook his head.

"I can't- I can't take it anymore. Please Fred, just tell them!" He said pleadingly.

"George, I can't," Fred said helplessly, his eyes sad, the pain clearly evident.

"For me Freddie," the other George was begging now, but Fred continued to shake his head, obviously struggling to stay in control of his emotions.

George's own eyes flew open as his doppelganger sat up suddenly, wincing slightly.

"You're placing Harry and the Order above me?" The other George questioned, his tone unexpectedly hard. Fred looked taken aback for a moment.

"No George, I- we promised each other-"

"I can't believe you Fred," the other George said in disgust, his lip curling in contempt.

"George," Fred pleaded.

"What kind of a brother are you? You're willing to let me be tortured while you sit like a pathetic lump in your cell, waiting? You didn't even try to come and rescue me, did you?" The other George's voice had risen as his face flushed red, his fists clenched tightly. "You're useless," he hissed viciously. "Everyone around you will die because of your own weaknesses, Fred. It'll be your fault, because you were too weak to protect them. My suffering, my death will be _your_ fault."

Fred took several steps back from his brother, his eyes wide, tears falling.

"You- don't say that, George. Please, not you," he whispered, voice cracking. The real George took one look at the horror on Fred's face and raced forward, ignoring his doppelganger's surprised cry. He stepped in front of Fred, blocking his line of vision to the table.

"Fred," he said gently, and Fred's eyes flickered up to meet his.

"Ge-George?" He whispered back, tears still falling. George nodded, placing one hand on Fred's shoulder, the other holding the side of Fred's head, keeping his gaze locked on George.

"I remember what we promised Fred. We swore that if we were taken, that no matter what, no matter how bad things got, we wouldn't give up any information. We wouldn't tell them anything about Harry, Ron, Hermione, or the Order, because we're fighting for a cause. We promised that even under pain of death, we would never tell them anything, because the fate of the world is more important that the two of us." George voice was strong, his grip on Fred firm, keeping him grounded, hanging onto George's words.

"We promised," Fred echoed, his eyes locked onto George's, teary, pain filled and confused. George nodded solemnly.

"We promised. And you kept that promise, Fred. You kept it, and I'm so proud of you for keeping it," George said. Fred swallowed.

"But you got hurt," he said quietly, his hand unconsciously moving to grasp George's jacket, not seeming to realise that he was talking to the wrong George, the George he had declared a death eater only an hour before.

And George was reminded so forcefully of Fred when he was eight, his voice small, his expression twisted into one of pain and guilt when George had fallen down the stairs whilst trying to race Fred. George had told Fred that he didn't blame him, that it had been his own decision to race, that Fred hadn't forced him, but it had taken more than an hour for Fred to stop feeling guilty. And George knew that same guilt was going to stay with Fred if he didn't say something.

"We knew what could happen. It wasn't your fault, Fred. We both made that promise, didn't we?"

Fred sniffed. "Yeah."

"So this isn't your fault, Fred. I don't blame you. I'll never blame you," George whispered. Fred seemed to believe him, smiling slightly, until his expression changed.

"Then why-?" And they both turned to look at the figure on the table. To George's surprise, the other George was beginning to grow hazy, almost translucent. He glanced quickly at Fred, who had noticed the same thing.

"What-" Fred let go of George, in the process of taking several steps towards the table when the other George unexpectedly vanished in a flash of light. Fred turned back to George, his eyes wide.

"You were telling the truth," he whispered. "That wasn't George."

George smiled. "And an hour later, you finally believe me," he said jokingly.

Before Fred could reply, the room began to shake abruptly, and in the distance George could hear the tunnel beginning to tremble. He looked back at Fred in horror, who was staring at him, bewildered.

"What's happening?" Fred yelled to be heard above the noise.

"I- I think your body is shutting down, and its dragging your mind down with it. Fred please, you have to trust me. We need to get out of here _now_," George yelled back. To his dismay, Fred was shaking his head.

"How do I know? How do I know I can trust you?" Fred had stumbled closer to him, his voice barely audible amidst the noise echoing outside. The shaking grew more violent, and the ceiling was beginning to crack.

"How do I know you're the real George?" Fred asked, and George could see the desperation in his eyes. Fred wanted to believe. He wanted to, but after what he had just seen he didn't know how. George stumbled forward until he was standing directly in front of Fred. He reached out and placed a hand on Fred's chest directly over his heart, looking straight into his eyes.

"It's me, Freddie. I'm right here, like I've always been. And right now you need to come with me because I can't go back alone. Not without you Fred, I can't survive. _Please_." George's voice was trembling with emotion, and he could see the tears in Fred's eyes. And finally to his relief, Fred nodded.

"I believe you," he croaked, and George felt his face split into the widest grin his mouth was capable of.

It was a violent shake that brought them back to reality.

"Come on, we have to get back to the mirror," George said, grabbing Fred's hand. The two of them ran down the corridors to Fred's cell. Around them, the world seemed to be crumbling, pieces of the wall breaking off and falling to the floor, the roof trembling ominously as shock waves riddled the tunnel. George narrowly avoided being squashed by a chunk of stone falling, and he could hear Fred curse behind him.

"You okay George?" Fred yelled as the two neared the cell. George was prevented from yelling back a response when he heard a cry of pain from behind him. Spinning around, he spotted Fred kneeling on the floor, his head bleeding profusely. A large rock nearby was the culprit, stained with blood. George ran back, pulling Fred to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Come on!" He yelled, pulling Fred along beside him. At first Fred seemed half dazed by the blow, but soon he was able to run by himself, and George's arm moved from his waist to grip his wrist, keeping the two close.

They finally stumbled back into the cell, which was beginning to crumble from the force of the shock waves. George pushed Fred in front of him, preparing them to go through, when Fred turned to him.

"How do you know this will work? Last time I just hit the mirror," Fred asked worriedly.

"Last time I just chucked you at the mirror. You didn't actually believe me. But now you know the truth," George said. Fred stared at him for a second.

"Just made that up on the spot, didn't you?" He said, a grin spreading across his face.

"Yep." George admitted. Fred laughed.

"See you on the other side then?" Fred said with a grin, which George returned despite the situation.

"I'll hold you to that," he said seriously. At that moment, both twins felt a shock wave approaching, aiming for the one thing in the room that had yet to break. George's eyes widened.

"Jump!" He yelled, grabbing Fred's hand and launching himself forward at the mirror just as it began to shatter. He could feel himself falling through when Fred's hand slipped out of his own.

"No!" George yelled, desperately grasping, but Fred's hand was gone.

Back in the Great Hall, George's eyes opened.


	6. Love

**Chapter 6- Love**

The first thing George noticed was a slight pain in his body from remaining in the same position for so long. The second thing he noticed was that he could no long feel Fred's hand clasped in his own. And the third thing he noticed was that Fred wasn't awake.

"Fred?" He mumbled, sitting up straighter, the weight of Fred's body pressed against him. He reached for Fred's hand, startled at its coolness, and was about to speak when he distracted by the sound of a loud sob emanating from his mother.

"Georgie!" She cried out before dissolving into tears in Arthur's arms. His eyes flickered to his siblings, Fleur, Harry and Hermione, who all wore similar expressions of relief. Relief that he was awake and alive. But Fred…

George shook Fred's shoulder lightly with his hand.

"Fred, wake up," he whispered quietly, desperation leaking into his voice. "Come on Fred. _Please_." For several heart-stopping moments, Fred was completely still, his chest unmoving. George could hear his family murmuring around him. He glanced up and saw Charlie looking at him sadly, Bill avoiding his gaze. Then suddenly, Fred's eyes flew open as he started coughing.

"Fred!" The whole family cried out at the same time in disbelief, all rising from their various positions on the floor. George gripped his brother's right shoulder tightly as Fred turned his head away, still coughing harshly.

"Just breathe Fred," he coached gently, voice cracking slightly as tears formed in his eyes at the sight of Fred awake. Fred wheezed several times before his breathing seemed to return to a normal state. His eyes flickered to George, and in that instant the two brothers launched themselves into the other's arms. Fred pressed his cheek against George's hair as George burrowed his head into Fred's neck, relishing the fact that Fred was alive, that Fred was breathing in his arms. Tears began flowing down his face, and Fred tightened his hold on George.

"Don't cry George, I'm here. I'm right here," Fred whispered into his ear, and George could only sob in response. Fred chuckled weakly, but his hold on George never weakened. A second pair of hands wrapped around the twins, and George opened his eyes to see a pair of horn rimmed glasses above him.

"Fred," Percy choked out and his grip tightened on the twins as Fred wrapped an arm around Percy. The three were soon joined by the rest of the family, all who had tears streaming down their faces. In the midst of all the flaming red hair George caught a glimpse of Fleur, Hermione and Harry who had been pulled into the massive group hug as well. It was several minutes before the group began to separate, but George was reluctant to let go of his brother. They came to a compromise; George keeping one arm slung around Fred's shoulder, while Fred gripped the back of George's jacket. The twins gazed up at the rest of their family who were all beaming.

"Miracle… it's a miracle," Arthur kept uttering as Molly dabbed her eyes. The rest of the Weasley clan were murmuring in agreement.

"How did you…?" Ron asked George dazedly, glancing between Fred and George. "What… _how_?"

It was a few hours later when the twins finally found themselves alone with each other. Everyone else was rejoicing at the death of Voldemort and the end of the war. From where they were standing, Fred and George could see Harry being hoisted onto Hagrid's shoulders while everyone cheered. They could even see a few of their own fireworks being set off, lighting up the sky. But George found he could not join in with the celebration. He felt exhausted, both mentally and physically, and a quick glance at his brother showed he was not alone. Now that it was over, Fred seemed to be experiencing a combination of emotions, the latest evident from the tears making their way down his face.

"Fred?" George said in alarm, his hand reaching out to his brother. "Fred, what's wrong?" Fred shook his head, unable to speak, rubbing his eyes fiercely. George pulled his brother into his arms, already murmuring soothing phrases into his ear. "Hey, it's alright. Everything's okay, we're all okay Freddie."

Fred still said nothing, but George could feel his body shake slightly. Fred had always been a silent crier, for as long as they could remember. While George would hiccough, sob, and generally cause quite a commotion, Fred was often more discreet, his tears often going unnoticed by everyone except George. Charlie had always found it amusing that it was such a switch from their normal personalities. Right now though, George could only rock his brother back and forth soothingly, providing him with the comfort he seemed to so desperately seek.

Several minutes later, Fred seemed to gain his control of his vocal chords.

"Being stupid," he muttered as he pulled away, wiping his face. George rested his hand on the back of Fred's neck.

"It's not stupid Fred, you've been through a lot today," George admonished. Fred shook his head.

"I keep hearing… you. The other you, back in my mind. You were screaming in pain and there was nothing I could do, even when you begged me… I'm so sorry George," and the look Fred shot George was filled with so much pain and regret that George had to hug his brother again, holding him close and letting his embrace speak the words he could not.

"It wasn't me Fred," he finally said gently. "You didn't let me down; you've never let me down. Got it?" Fred chuckled weakly from within his arms.

"Got it," he murmured back.

"It's okay Fred," George told him quietly, and he heard Fred sniffed wetly as he drew back from the hug. The two looked back out to the crowd, shoulders touching. George broke the silence.

"How did you get through the mirror? I thought- I thought for a second there that I lost you."

"You almost did," Fred admitted. "The mirror shattered when I was halfway through. That was when I lost my grip on your hand. Then it was like I was lost in this mass of darkness, and I couldn't get out."

"So- how-?" George asked disjointedly, eyes fixed on Fred's face.

"I heard you calling for me," Fred said simply, eyes meeting George's. A look passed between the two and George nodded in understanding.

"So how does it feel to be back?" He asked in a weak attempt to change the topic. Fred shrugged.

"It feels a bit surreal," he commented, but George knew there was something he wasn't saying. He raised an eyebrow, and Fred sighed.

"I just don't understand" Fred admitted.

George frowned. "Don't understand what?"

"Why I'm alive when so many people died" Fred said bluntly, and George flinched.

"Don't- you make it sound like you want to be dead!" George said, sounding quite upset. Fred's gaze softened at George's distress.

"I don't _want_ to be dead George, of course I don't, but I nearly was. I should be. So who decided that I have a second chance at life when so many people died?" Fred's voice was sorrowful, and George found that he had no words of comfort because he honestly didn't know.

"You can't think about it like that," a quiet voice disrupted their tense silence and Fred and George looked up in surprise to find Harry standing before them.

"How did you get out of that crowd?" George asked, bemused. Harry smirked.

"I have my ways." His expression turned serious as he looked at Fred.

"But Fred, you can't keep thinking about it. Believe me, you'll never find an answer. I've been asking myself that for years and I still don't know."

"So how do you do it? How do you go on living?" Fred's voice was deadly serious, his eyes filled with a pain George could understand because hadn't he been asking himself the same question only hours before? Why should he get to live, when his twin, his other half was dying?

"Well, I suppose you continue living for those who lost their lives. You cherish every moment you have, and you live your life in memory of those who couldn't." Harry looked sad for a moment as he reminisced on those close to him he had lost, and George felt the need to break the solemn mood.

"I suppose if you were going to listen to anyone Fred, it should be the boy who lived," George commented.

"Or whatever it is they're calling you now," Fred added, catching on quickly to George's plan.

"The boy who defeated the Dark Lord."

"The boy who lived twice."

"The defeater of death."

"Not to mention our future brother-in-law, if Ginny has anything to say about it."

Harry began laughing, cheeks already turning red. "Hey, I'm nearly eighteen now. Hardly a boy anymore," he protested.

"The man formerly known as the boy who lived!" Fred and George proclaimed together. Harry grinned, and then turned his head as he heard his name being called out.

"Looks like they're waiting for you, boy wonder," Fred smirked slightly. Harry smiled, and turned to go, when he suddenly turned back, looking slightly awkward.

"I just want you to know… I'm glad you survived Fred," He said. George watched as Fred's smirk changed into a genuine smile.

"Yeah well, right back at you Harry," Fred said, and grinned as Harry made his way back to the cheering crowd. George nudged Fred's shoulder lightly.

"I'm glad you survived too, Fred," he said quietly. Fred gazed at him.

"I wouldn't have survived without you," Fred admitted quietly. "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't-"

"Try not to think about it," George interrupted. He smiled weakly. "I know I'm not." Fred laughed, knowing full well that the past few hours would be imprinted in their minds for a very long time.

"You're a terrible liar George," he said affectionately, bumping their shoulders together.

"Shut up. I'm not as bad as you."

Fred's smile lingered on his lips for a few seconds before disappearing; painfully reminding George of the moment they had found Fred's body, his brother's lips frozen in a smile. His expression must have changed because Fred's own expression was one of regret as he gazed at his twin.

"Oh Georgie…" he muttered, before pulling George into a hug, and George didn't know how Fred knew he needed the contact, but he did. He wrapped his own arms around Fred, failing in his attempt to stop the tears which were leaking down Fred's neck. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find the right words to describe how he was feeling.

"I know, George," Fred murmured, and George was once again hit by the realization of how close he had come to losing the one person who knew him better than he knew himself. The person who knew when he needed to laugh or to cry before he himself knew. And in that moment, the only thing he could do was cry, sobbing in the arms of his best friend, his brother, his twin.

"God I'm such a sap," George laughed wetly a few minutes later when he felt himself gaining control of his emotions.

"I think we've cried more today than we have in our whole life," Fred said in agreement.

"Well that's just not true. I take it neither of you remember being two?" Bill's voice came from behind them. The twins turned around to see both Bill and Charlie approaching.

"What happened when we were two?" Fred asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. Bill looked at Fred for a moment, taking in the sight of his little brother _alive_ before continuing.

"You and George used to cry all the time. We never even knew why half the time, we'd just turn around and George would be sobbing his eyes out and you would just sit there with tears streaming down your face. And I've never heard anyone cry so loud in my life, George!" Bill proclaimed. George huffed.

"And then of course you two would set off Ron, and meanwhile mum would be struggling with Ginny who of course had decide to compete with the volume, and Percy would come barrelling down the stairs saying you were all being too noisy… it was a nightmare!" Charlie finished, grinning despite his last statement. Fred looked at his older brothers, his face solemn.

"Well that's just not true."

"Yeah, we wouldn't just cry for no reason!"

"It's as if you're suggesting we _enjoy_ causing trouble for others!"

"Preposterous!"

"Absolutely ridiculous."

"How could you even propose such a thing?"

Bill rolled his eyes, ruffling the twins' hair as he strolled down to join Fleur. Charlie made to follow him, before turning around and pulling both twins into his arms, embracing them.

"Oh Charlie, you're such a sap," Fred said, but his smile spoke volumes.

"You ever do _anything_ like that again…" Charlie said warningly, shaking his finger at Fred, who laughed.

"Love you too Charlie."

Charlie left with a grin on his face. Meanwhile Fred was grimacing, trying to flatten his hair after Bill's exuberant hair ruffling. He exchanged a glance with George, who looked just as dishevelled.

"Sound like something we would do, doesn't it?" Fred remarked, referring to their misdemeanours as toddlers. George nodded, smirking.

"Causing mayhem at the tender age of two." He said proudly.

"Shall we go down and join the celebrations then?" Fred asked uncertainly, unsure whether George, or himself for that matter, was up to it. George looked thoughtfully at the large crowd for a moment.

"I suppose, yeah," he said with a sigh.

"Well there's no need to be so enthusiastic about it," Fred remarked.

"Oh shut up ," George said as he gave Fred a light shove.

"Come on then, let's go down together," Fred said as he began walking down the stairs. George gazed at his brother's retreating back.

"Together," he echoed, and he felt a swell of happiness flow through his body at the word.

"Oi, Saint Georgie, get moving already!" Fred shouted back at him. George grinned broadly as he ran down to meet his brother, the two of them joining in the celebrations with their ever contagious Weasley gusto.

Together.

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><p><strong>AN: **Ta-da! All done. Hehe and you all thought I was going to kill Fred… Well, there you have it. Not really much action in this one, it was more emotional closure and what-not. But that's always fun to write. So, as always, big thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: **Weasleyismyking3**, **sparrowflyaway**, **Blastoise100**, **Cristina Weasley**, **cutietrp**, **chocolateMnMs**, **Tangleddove15**, and **Stars and Stripes**. You guys are brilliant, and I hope the last chapter lived up to your expectations. And to everyone reading: it's been fun. Thank you very much, and please leave a review if you can.


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